Everybody Polka!

Brats, Beer and Polka in German Village
Schmidt's Sausage Haus
Columbus, Ohio

Dessert at the Red Arrow Diner

The Red Arrow Diner. Manchester, NH
If you're in New Hampshire's Queen City, check it out. I held off the urge for the first slice of this cake, but if you give it a try, let me know what you think.

Barbecue of Historic Proportion

Starving and driving way too fast down I-85, we poured over the map. This had been a long day that started pre-dawn and included two flights, rental car hassles (thank you Avis), several hours in said lousy rental car and two client meetings. There wasn’t time for lunch, but finally our obligations were complete and nothing mattered but my crumpled map of the North Carolina Historic Barbecue Trail. Seriously… there’s a map. I’m glad I found out because the Trail led me to righteous BBQ and a classic NC experience.

Barbecue means something different everywhere you go. In New England, it most often means hamburgers and hot dogs. When folks in North Carolina say barbecue they mean slow cooked pork, but after that the variations are many and people have strong opinions about what they like best. Despite their opinions, everyone spoke of Lexington, North Carolina as ground zero for chopped pork barbecue. Lexington Barbecue has been cooking on their pits since 1962, burning cords and cords of oak and hickory over the years.



Our waitress said her favorite thing was the “brown, lean, course chop”. At that point, we admitted to needing coaching. She didn’t hold our Yankee, barbecue bonehead status against us and explained that “western Carolina” barbecue at Lexington is sort of like carving a turkey for Thanksgiving. They only cook pork shoulder here and the meat is separated by type so you can choose what you want. Brown means an area of the shoulder that isn’t covered in fat and has had more smoke than “the white”. You can get lean or marbled meat. And the chop is just that… not pulled or sliced but cut course or fine. It all made sense now and we were believers.



The sauce isn’t what you find in the local Super Wal-Mart. Darn tasty, its vinegar based, thin and offers a kick. But, the barbecue is so unbelievably great; there isn’t much reason to put sauce on it.



The plate came with more regional staples, red slaw and hush puppies.



When we paid our bill, the owner was helping with the overflow at the front counter. If he didn’t tell us he appreciated our business six times, he didn’t tell us once. He asked us what we had for dinner and was clearly proud to be part of the institution that is barbecue in this part of North Carolina. It’s rare that you get to look someone in the eye like that these days. The food here was great, but Lexington Barbecue is much more than that. Like so many local places I check out on business travel, the food, the people, the atmosphere and the tradition creates a genuine experience that isn’t easy to find anymore. There is something deeper going on here speaking to truly traditional and original food with a sense of place and time all its own. To top it all off, when we asked about separating the bill into three credit card charges, he took a look at our check and with a great big smile said “how about $12.17 a piece?”. What a bargain.

San Antonio Refritos

Riverwalk


Mariachi in Respose


El Dia de los Muertos


Pick a Mask Nacho Libre

Red Dogs and French Canadians

Simones' in Lewiston, Maine



This place is great. Friendly folks, classic Maine red dogs and the comfortable dialect of second generation Franco-Americans. Makes me feel like I'm in my hometown in Northern NH. I have to admit that I don't know if I'd have the chili again. It had sort of a baked bean taste and I'm not much for baked beans. But, it's hard to beat a steamed red dog no matter what you do with it.

When in Anchorage

Tommy's Burger Stop is the place.



I've written before about wax paper as the secret weapon for all great burger joints and here is more evidence to support it's magic contribution to one tasteeeee cheese burger. In addition to making great burgers, the folks at Tommy's are avid supporters of the local roller derby, fans of Johnny Cash and critics of their esteemed governor. My kind of folks.

Political Insights at 30 Below Zero

The morning of Barack Obama’s inauguration, I woke up on the North Slope of Alaska. Despite long days of travel to get to Barrow, my Eastern Standard Time body clock had me up at 4:00 am Alaska time. Settling down with some work and flipping on the television, I immediately saw an email announcing that the inauguration would be streamed into my company’s Board Room for anyone who wanted to watch and then heard Matt Lauer on TV speculating on when the Obamas would appear and get events rolling. I could feel the cynicism creeping in. A historic day.  A once in a life time event and I’m thousands of miles away from it all, literally at the end of the earth. 320 miles north of the Arctic Circle, out of touch, not even cell phone service and busy with work. Having a job that involves travel means you miss a lot of stuff and it’s frustrating. But, it is what is…

Half a day later, but still just early morning to the citizens of Barrow, we went off to get some breakfast before meeting with our customer. We deferred to the taxi driver on a place to eat who took us to Pepe’s North of the Border.

Our waiter, immediately bombarded us with stand-up jokes fit for Lenny Bruce, filling my coffee cup and saying he’s “not really a waiter, but a truck driver”. This was Joe. His mother is Pepe’s matriarch. This Mexican restaurant is a Barrow institution. Pepe’s founder Fran Tate has been in the Wall Street Journal and on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. What a great gimmick… South of the Border food hundreds of miles north of the Arctic Circle.

My co-worker and I soon realized the inauguration was on the radio and we didn’t talk much over breakfast, particularly when Obama’s speech started. Pepe’s had one of those classic, old FM radios that people used to have pre-boom boxes and it sounded great. I could hear a second radio or TV mimicking the radio at a lower volume and with a slight delay. That isn’t uncommon in Alaska. Transmissions here don’t always come across in real time.

Like I tend to do with all political speeches, I listened for the sound bites and taglines. I kept score in my head of what our new President said vs. what I wanted to hear. I wondered what aspects of the speech he would get criticized for. I felt sort of disappointed to not hear the next great phrase of our time. I guess when one of your themes is service to country, its tough to compete with “Ask not what your country…”

Here's what I did hear…
“It has not been the path for the faint-hearted, for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame.
Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.
For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life. “

Later, Obama went on to say...
“For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness.
We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus, and nonbelievers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth.”

And that is exactly where I sat… the end of the Earth. At the edge of the North American land mass, but still in the United States. Here in Pepe’s I was close to everything he was saying. Here, looking up at piñatas on the ceiling where a woman left her oil job to succeed as an entrepreneurial restaurateur. Here, watching Inupiat mothers with children on their backs, covered in Eskimo parkas picking up take out. Here, where modern science, engineering and innovation has brought the oil pipeline. Here, where folks are talking about how they don’t see Caribou anymore because of global warming. Here, where everyday people live in an extreme environment facing extreme challenges, but ultimately just living their lives in the best way they can.

When we left the restaurant, the taxi took a road along the Chukchi Sea. I looked out over the frozen pack ice. I couldn’t see Russia or any Russians. The coast was clear. I felt lucky to have heard the speech this morning in this little town and somehow felt an indescribable kinship with the folks that live here. I was happy that we had elected a new President.

Hooray for Hodad's!!!

It's my destiny to own a local, home town fixture sort of restaurant. Many of you have probably heard me wax romantically of the notion. Ok... restaurant may be a bit of a misnomer. I'm talking the hole in the wall chili dog place, lunch cart, burger joint or taco shack. I love to look for these places when I travel for work and I found one of the great ones a couple of weeks ago in Ocean Beach, California . Behold Hodad's...



A sample of the fine ambience... the gal outside in the black T-shirt is a waitress. Why make customers crane their neck and turn around on their stools when you can go out on the sidewalk to take an order. Now that's service!



You can learn a lot from license plates. Who knew that North Dakota is the peace garden state? I know how to spell most anything in phonetic license-plate-ese.



On to the food. I think these were the best onion rings I've ever had. I passed on the ranch dressing. Ranch isn't my thing for rings, but I think they have to give it to you with everything in California. Just like avocado.



This burger was deeeeeelicious. You ever notice that anything wrapped in wax paper tastes really good?



All generations and walks of life come here to enjoy the food and rock Dio on the sound system cranked to 11. These folks didn't look like they wanted a picture taken... but shooting from the hip can do wonders sometimes. Very sly...



The fine people at Hodad's even gave me one of these swell stickers like the one you see here stuck to the bar. I'm getting it as a tattoo.